


The Forged Path

by Katherino



Category: The Young Elites Series - Marie Lu
Genre: F/M, I'm finishing and posting this in honor of 14 year old me, OC Time, Prequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-05-28 08:35:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19390447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katherino/pseuds/Katherino
Summary: If one truly wants to understand how the Young Elites came to fruition, one must start at the beginning. Before betrayal and death, before deals and sisterhood. This is the story of a forgotten Elite, one that did not see what her actions came to create.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 18 Juno 1358 
> 
> City of Estenzia
> 
> Northern Kenettra
> 
> The Sealands

**Raffaele Laurent Bessette**

Another night at the Fortunata Court, consorts dressed in their finest silks entertaining clients with dances and conversation. Raffaele breathes in the familiar scent of night lilies as he makes his way around the lavishly decorated main lounging chamber. The threads of energy are heavy around him tonight, many have come to the court this evening. A beautiful boy by the name of Adriano had just become of age, and many were eager to buy his virgin price.

**_It is possible I won’t be noticed tonight,_ **

**_Perhaps I can finally sleep alone._ **

His hopes plummet all too easily as he bumps into a young lady with copper hair cut at the chin, their collision making her prominent amount of jewelry clink. He turns to face what will most likely become his client for the night. Taking notice of her unusually short hair and startled expression, he pulls at her heartstrings to help calm her as she takes a quick look around the chamber.

Once she has regained awareness of her situation, she blushes, “I’m quite sorry sir, I hope I didn’t interrupt your evening.” She does not have a Kenettran accent, and her skin is too light for that of the Sealands. A Beldish girl, perhaps?

Raffaele puts on one of his many practiced expressions. Showing one of embarrassment and awe, as if he cannot believe he bumped into her. “Not at all, miss. Would you care to sit?” He gives her a soft smile and gestures toward one of the many divans in the chamber. Where other consorts converse with their clients over food and wine.

To Raffaele’s surprise, the girl does not take his arm. She instead takes one his hands between her’s and speaks, “I’m not looking for entertainment tonight, but I’m sure another will take up your offer.” She then places his hand back at his side before grasping her skirts and fading into the throng of nobles with the light clinking of her many bracelets and rings.

Raffaele doesn’t know if he should be relieved or insulted. It took a very special person to turn him down. He looks down at his hand, the girl had managed to make his hand feel light and-

She had stolen the rings off his fingers. 

He looked in the direction the girl had gone in, he could not see her, she was moving through the many wealthy clients, but Raffaele sensed something that the many energies in the room had masked before.

She was an Elite.

Raffaele attempted to keep his composure as he made his way through the chamber, trying to focus on the girl’s energy. Watching it grow and fade as she used her power. One of his only tasks from Enzo was to be on the lookout for useful members. The fact that Raffaele hadn’t noticed her energy before she was leaving was a rare anomaly in his observant nature. He made up for his mistake with speed, pushing through shocked clientele, and ignoring their comments as he continued to pursue her. He soon saw a flash of copper hair and a pale hand adorned with the bronze rings he had been wearing moments before.

He grabbed the girl’s wrist before she could disappear. “In exchange for not turning you into the madam for stealing my rings,” Raffaele whispered in her ear, “I ask you to come with me to my bedchamber. We have much to discuss.” He could sense her energy tense at the thought of being caught stealing in a foreign country, at the thought of being alone with him specifically, he prayed to the gods that she wouldn’t cause a scene. Raffaele let his temper moderate when her heart rate steadied after a few moments. She nodded at him, agreeing to his terms, and letting him lead her out of the lounging chamber, and toward the halls the of Fortunata Court.

They passed the many paintings of the gods, the girl not giving them a second glance. He senses her emotions, feeling the distrust but desperation that echos inside of him. He wonders why a girl with the clothes of a noblewoman needs to steal. Raffaele guesses he will find out soon enough, as the voices from the main chamber fade away, and the halls are only lit by the torches hanging on the walls. They eventually arrive at the door that belongs to Raffaele, and he opens it before pulling the girl inside and locking it. Raffaele relaxes his grip on her as he prepares to speak.

The girl pulls her wrist free before striking him across the face, throwing him off balance. But she cannot unlock the door before Raffaele grabs her once more and pins her to the wall. She may be strong, but she is small and writhes in his grasp in an attempt to get free.

“Please! Listen to me for one moment.” He thinks of what Enzo said when he first met him, “Do you want to hurt those who have wronged you?”

She gives him a look of disgust and brings her chin up high, a commanding tone in her voice, “I have no thirst for vengeance, whatever it is you can offer me, I do not need it. Release me.” Raffaele does as she says, and the girl seems surprised. She quickly recovers and makes her way to the chamber door once again.

“You must know that Kenettra does not treat it’s _malfettos_ the same way as Beldain.” She stops at his words, they had burned a _malfetto_ girl in the street just yesterday. “Whoever you’re looking for, you’re going to have trouble finding them. You must have experienced the difficulty that comes with being a _malfetto_ in Kenettra.”

The girl turns to him now, her eyes alight with fury. “What makes you think I’m looking for someone?”

Raffaele’s mood turned smug, “Why else would a Beldish noble being sneaking around a foreign country and stealing jewelry?”

“How do you know I’m a noble?” she asked.

“You have the look of one.”

“Maybe I’m a spy,” she countered.

“Then you’re not a very good one.”

The girl huffed, and Raffaele’s smile became wider. “So?” she asked, “What is your offer?”

“Meet a friend of mine, he’ll want to know more about what you can do. If you can be useful to our cause, he’ll employ you. Either way, in the end, I will assist you in locating your friend.”

“How so?” She asks.

“The same way I found you in that crowd tonight,” He replies, “I’m a _malfetto_ myself, gifted with the ability to track others with gifts. We call them elites.”

The girl furrows her brows as if trying to find the lie etched into his face. Soon, however, she seems satisfied that he is telling the truth. 

“All right then,” she says. “I’ll meet your friend.” She holds her hand out for them to seal the deal. He meets her and shakes it.

“Raffaele,” He says, and smiles.

She smiles back, “not yet,” is her only reply.


	2. Chapter 2

**Katherine Grace Gavigan**

I spend a week within the halls for the Fortunata Court. Raffaele can sense my impatience. “My friend is a busy man, I promise that your meeting will come soon enough,” He says to me.

Within a few days, I grow tired of being confined to the bedchamber he has set aside for me. After a brief bickering session, Raffaele agrees to our current arrangement. He can huff and puff all he wants, I will not be contained.

A maid arrives in my bedchamber at the Fortunata Court each morning, bringing me fresh silks and tending to my hair. I then meet with Raffaele, learning how to blend in at the court with the appearance of a consort. Soon, I began to pick up on the subtle nature of his expressions, the slight raising of an eyebrow or the upturn of a lip can make all the difference. Raffaele notices how quickly I learn, and compliments me, raising my blush.

I do not bother to wander in Estenzia. No one will know anything about Lucent’s whereabouts, no matter how much I pay them. Raffaele was right, if I am going to track her, I will need some help. Some more Elite help at that. So I wait.

I spend my nights in the lounging chamber among the various noblemen and women. Swiping their various rings and bracelets, the occasional pendant. I sometimes make eye contact with Raffaele, and he stares at me. He thinks that I am a noble with a penchant for stealing, and I have refused to reveal the nature of my power. He seems to think that he’ll find the answers written in ink on my forehead during these moments, and every time I show him a hand filled with stolen jewels, he frowns.

Then the night comes, I am making my way through the crowd, seamlessly swiping trinkets when I am, for the second time, pulled to the side of the chamber. I hold back a scream once I see who’s holding me.

A boy not much older than myself, wearing lavish silks and a mask faces me. He has the atmosphere of a predator about him, and I worry it’s enough to draw attention. His hair is the color of blood, the marking of a _malfetto_.

I have little interest in pleasantries. Despite occupying my time with Raffaele’s lessons, my patience has grown thin over these weeks. “Nice of you to make an appearance,” I say.

The boy frowns an narrows his eyes, “Raffaele tells me you are an Elite, and that you are looking for help.” He does not remove his mask, and I can only wonder the reason for his very conservative attire. With the mask, he wears thick, black leather gloves, silks cover every inch of his skin. It is summer here in Kenettra, the boy must be burning alive under those clothes.

“And he tells me that you’ll help if I talk to you and show you my power. Give me your hand.” He seems apprehensive at first, and I understand. Stories of elite powers range from useless parlor tricks to deadly skills, but he is foolish to think I would try to hurt him here. 

He slowly removes his glove, and I notice the burn marks. They are red and angry, scar tissue covering the spaces in between each crack in his skin. 

He raises his hand, and I now notice that he wears a few bronze and gold rings, intricate designs covering each one. _Perfect_. I slide my hand down on top of his, until I am touching the rings, being contained inside the gloves has made the metal strangely warm. But I can feel each thread that keeps the gold solid and focus as I reach out and pull them apart. I feel the metal start to slide down his fingers with ease, now in a slightly liquid form, until it rests in my palm. I now move the threads to mold the metal mixture, making it into the shape of a Kenettran gold talent. Only this one bears the same intricate designs of the rings they once were.

Once I have released the threads, I open my palm. What once were rings have now combined into a swirling coin of gold and bronze, shining in the light of the Fortunata Court. The boy’s lips part in what might be awe. But before I can speak his face changes back to stoic, and he puts his glove back where it belongs, on his hand, “Metal manipulation.” He breathes, “Come with me.” despite my irritation at his vague order, it is too late to back out now. I follow.

This journey comes with more ease than the one I made with Raffaele that first night. I keep at his side, an attempt to force equality. I will not have this partnership start off with anything less.

Once we are behind closed doors, The boy turns toward me and begins to remove the mask he has worn for the duration of our conversation. He continues this process by removing his gloves once again, so I begin to see the true extent of his marking. Scarlet lashes with matching wisps of the same color dot his eyes. He looks as if every hair on his body is dripping with blood. But there is a familiarity to his face, though only in paintings, I have seen him before.

“Your Highness, I did not expect you to be the close companion of a consort.” He narrows his eyes as I go into a customary Kenettran curtsy. After all, it is the proper way to address someone such as the former crown prince of Kenettra, Enzo Valenciano. “Thought I should have guessed, princes don’t give up their birthrights easily, do they?”

A puff of air leaves his mouth, and if I didn’t know better, I would say he is amused. “If you truly are an Elite, what is your marking? The Beldish don’t typically use apothecaries to hide them, even while you reside within our borders.” I smile at his question before I lift the sleeves of my dress. A single gold line runs up each arm, he is just as foolish as Raffaele, mistaking my marking for a shimmering paint. 

“It continues all the way and connects on my back. But you’ll have no proof.” The prince chuckles, and I decide that I don’t know better.

“Raffaele tells me you are looking for a friend, someone from home.” Enzo now lounges at an empty writing desk, the wood creaking under his weight as if it is the first time he had ever set foot near it. 

“You are correct. However, I do not see how a banished prince and a consort can assist me in my mission.” He bristles at the word “banished”, and rightfully so. It was at the hands of his own sister, an inner-family betrayal. I can hardly imagine someone of my own blood doing the same.

“You are not as clever as I thought, since Raffaele can find Elites, and since we’re looking for more to join our cause, it is only a matter of time before we locate your friend”. And despite my attempts to remain on guard, I believe him. Lucent may be good at hiding, but she will be itching for someone to fight soon enough. It has been her nature since we were children.

However nice the prince is being to me, his help must come at a price. “What must I give you in return? I’m sure a prince has no need for stolen rings. I don’t know what interests you.”

Enzo gets up from his chair, the air in the room turning suddenly serious as he walks toward me. I don’t know how I could have assumed he was born anything but a prince. his gait is regal, dripping with power and authority, and it is meant to make me afraid. But living among Beldish royalty, especially Maeve’s mother, has made me immune to the charms of all of Enzo’s light manipulations. 

That doesn’t stop my heart rate from picking up as he closes the gap between us, his height looming over me as he gives his offer. “I’m sure the Beldish relished the gossip that spread when my sister banished me.” I nod, when Queen Giulietta had gotten rid of Enzo it was the talk of the country. Maeve’s mother spent days with her advisors deciding if a war was at play. ”I plan to gather my own army, an army of Elites that will be able to take down any amount of Inquisitors. An army that will help me reclaim my birthright and give justice to all the _malfettos_ in Kenettra.”

I am at awe with the prince’s words, his plan is ambitious, but I find myself swaying to his side. 

“You want me to join your army of Elites in exchange for your help.”

“It would be a good partnership, your friend would join us as well once we find her. With Raffaele’s ability to track others like us, we will be able to bring Elites together under one cause. He has already begun to gather patrons for us, people who don’t like my sister or the idiot she married. The gods have brought us together to help their children. It is our duty.” Enzo is now standing tall as if he is talking to a crowd of followers and not a small girl in his bedchamber. His scarlet irises flair with ambition. 

There isn’t much considering to do with this offer. I need Raffaele, Enzo needs members of his Elite force. It is mutually beneficial. “I accept your offer, your highness. But may I ask, how will you ensure that the Elites you gather will not turn on you in search of power themselves?” I smirk, narrowing my eyes and awaiting his response.

“Because if they do,” He replies, creating distance between us, “They will be burned to a crisp.” A flame burns in his hands now, searing hot in the chamber. I flash him a smile and a nod. The rumors leaving the palace were true then, Enzo was not just a _malfetto,_ he’s an Elite.

He lets the flame flicker out, settling back into his chair in a nonchalant position. He begins to prepare a drink. “Raffaele forgot to tell me your name, and in our discussions, I forgot to ask. What may I call my newest member?”

“Katherine Grace Gavigan, citizen of the great country of Beldain. Now in service to the crown prince of Kenettra,” I bow, Enzo smiles at me, it brings a familiar ache to my chest. 

“Welcome, Katherine.” He holds out his hand, and I take it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I suppose if this is going in chronological order, then we have to start with Gemma. We didn’t find her in the same way we found the rest. She was gifted to us, you see. A gift with a gift, and oh what a gift she was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 24 Februus 1359
> 
> City of Estenzia
> 
> Northern Kenettra
> 
> The Sealands

**Raffaele Laurent Bessette**

Not much is done in the next few months. Enzo is busy testing Katherine’s abilities, finding her limits and strengths. But there is only so much he can teach her in his bedchamber, and it is difficult to move around secretly in the streets of Estenzia, where the Inquisition axis lies around every corner.

But Enzo assures Raffaele that they will make do, that the gods are on their side. So he stays in the Fortunata Court, beginning to gather patrons for their cause. His charm easily turning them to the side of prince Enzo. How can they resist his ability to physically manipulate their emotions?

Tonight he is entertaining Baron Salvatore, a nobleman of high standing. He never touches Raffaele but is quite fond of their conversations. The deal should be easy.

The Baron is an older man, and quite fortunate to have never come into contact with the blood fever as it had raved its way through the old and young of Estenzia. He is wearing robes fitting of his status, rich reds and blues crisscrossing his torso. And despite his wife’s death, a wedding band is still wrapped around his finger.

They sip wine like old friends in Raffaele’s bedchamber, the candlelight giving an easy atmosphere to the room, as it always does. With their privacy secured, he will be able to discuss more fragile matters. “How are we faring under a new rule?” The new king, a Duke who had married the now Queen Giulietta, was corrinated last month. They will both need to be killed in order for Enzo to have a secure rule. Raffaele is still getting used to the idea.

“He is drunk with power already, and he has barely come to the court. Trading our treasury for brothels and useless hunting trips.” Baron Salvatore sighs and leans back in his chair, discontent obvious in his eyes.

At this point, Raffaele would go as far as calling Baron Salvatore his friend. He trusts him, so he sits up, a serious expression adorning his face. “Change would require some power, as well a the right friends. ”

“That it would, do you have any ideas?” The Baron asks.

“I have some trustworthy friends. People who have personal investments in seeing Kenettra made better. We are, however, still in the beginning stages and have some...insufficiencies.”

“You need money,” He states, and Raffaele smiles.

“You catch on quick as always, we are trying to make this country more safe for malfettos. And the only way to make that happen is of the crown is worn by another. Someone more capable of running a country. You would benefit from this, if I am correct; your daughter was marked by the blood fever.” Raffaele gives a slight pause, “Do you think she will be safe once you pass?” It was a dangerous personal jab, but a powerful one.

Raffaele sees a flash of anger in his eyes, but can he also sense something else. The Baron’s energy has turned dark with fear, “Gemma is a smart girl, and her marking does not change that. If we could discuss more on your friends, How do they plan to take out the king and queen? There are rarely seen together in public. Even if you manage to gather an army strong enough to assassinate him, there will be others who think they are more worthy of the throne. How can my daughter be safe if the country resorts to anarchy and power struggles?” A fair point to make, not knowing who Enzo is.

“Our leader is gathering Elites, surely you have heard of certain malfettos possessing extraordinary powers. What better cause to unite them against then giving them their rights back? He is locating more as we speak. Do not think me a fool, Baron Salvatore. The man behind all this will be able to assume the throne with impressive fluidity.”

He can feel the conflict in his energy when Raffaele mentions Elites, there is something he's keeping from him. He could lose everything he has if their plans go sour, but he needs to take this chance, it is the only way to ensure his daughter’s life.

“I would like you to meet my daughter, if you are gathering Elites, then she will be of some use to you. And I will become your patron, as long as my daughter still lives.”

Raffaele keeps his expression calm despite his surprise, the skill of a consort. The Baron’s daughter is an Elite? He will need to evaluate her, but that will come later.

“Trust me, Baron Salvatore, the only way she will ever be safe is if this revolution succeeds.” And they clink cups, a toast to their new partnership.


End file.
